


You Suffer Twice

by ShadowsofaChronicle



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Eventual Newt/Tina, Focus on hurt, Gen, Grindelwald is a Gross Human Being, Hurt/Comfort, Newt Scamander is a Precious Cinnamon Roll, Newt Scamander's Insecurity, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rescue Effort, Then focus on healing, Tina and Theseus become Friends, Torture, no non-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-09 11:21:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8888878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowsofaChronicle/pseuds/ShadowsofaChronicle
Summary: Striding through MACUSA, nodding to those that smiled his way, Grindelwald's mind whirred through future plans, but the first that he settled on was simple. He needed an example to remind both Europe and America why he should be feared, because fear was just as important as the best stratagems. Someone with ties to both would be optimal and it was then the foundations for the plan set. He needed Newt Scamander to scream and he would ensure that the world would hear it.





	1. Silence Can Be The Greatest Form Of Rebellion

It irked Grindelwald. Well, to be blunt, this entire situation was irking to the extreme. Aspects could even be considered infuriating. That he was forced to delay once more, forced to sit idly for a time by an organization centered on cowering from no-majs. Muggles. That alone was irritating, how much these American customs had slipped into his bearing, they needed to be extracted as soon as possible. Percival Graves was a convenient face nothing more. Finally, that he had missed such a mass of power, unused, waiting to be harnessed, and now lost. But out of all of the situation, what grated on Grindelwald the most was not that he had overlooked Credence Barebones, who was still merely a sniveling child, or that MACUSA had him in a cell for a time, no, it was something far more base. Newt Scamander.

He was of little relevance at the beginning, a means to an end at most, someone to distract MACUSA from the Obscurus, but it seemed Newt Scamander was not a man that remained where he was meant to be. He started breaking from that role while in interrogation and it was almost a shame to send him to his death, with how quickly the man had caught onto his slip and how staunchly he was against the cause. It would have been fascinating to see if that stood the test of Grindelwald. But Miss Goldstein looked stricken at Newt’s line of questioning and while he had done his best to discredit her within MACUSA, he didn’t necessarily enjoy that. She had a spark and he respected maintaining that amongst the stifle of the society around her, even if he knew she was incapable of grasping onto the scope of his vision. So if she began to see the flaws in ‘Graves’ performance, their time had come to an end. Mr. Scamander was interesting, but not needed. He could study the Obscurus and gain insight to finding and using the Obscurio, the other beasts could be set loose or killed, they didn’t matter and nor did the man.

Or that was what he had believed, but they both proved to be a very stubborn thorn in his side, impeding his claiming of Credence. If anything, Miss Goldstein’s expression hardened after he threw the barb her way. And Mr. Scamander…

He and Albus shared a belief and that was that life was like chess. Their view on the humanity of the pieces differed, but there was that commonality of the board and the strategy required for it. And with that view came a respect and an understanding. You didn’t make a move during another player’s turn, you prepared for your own. And you didn’t touch the other player’s pieces. Credence was his, his to manipulate, his to shape. Lesser beings would call it fondness, but it truly wasn’t. 

Credence was given the minimum of what he needed to survive and to remain close to Grindelwald, no more. He was there to serve his purpose, which began and ended with the Obscurio being found. Even Albus was never given everything. Oh he knew what Albus felt, it and his old friend’s guilt were all that stood in the way of his actually confronting Grindelwald and confident as Grindelwald was, Albus was the only other that could even potentially be called his equal. It was an inevitable fight, but it was one that would be staved off as long as possible. And if Albus, his potential equal, was not given that, Credence deserved nothing. He had bent and broken under a muggle who held no power except what Credence gave. It was unacceptable. 

But regardless of that, Credence was still his piece. And Mr. Scamander stole him. It was poor form, but it showed a strength of will that Grindelwald overlooked. It took Grindelwald weeks to gain Credence’s trust, but Mr. Scamander coaxed him to solidity in a matter of minutes. It was the first time that Grindelwald evaluated him a threat and he acted accordingly. The spell he used was flashy, painful, and powerful. He remembered teaching it to Albus and it being one of the few spells that the other had struggled with for a time, lacking the rage necessary to power it. One of his sisters ‘incidents’ brought that problem to an end. He chose it partially to agitate Credence, but also because Newt Scamander had proved difficult. Grindelwald had a method for difficult things. 

If he didn’t murder them outright, he made them scream. There was something vulnerable and exposed about being forced into vocalizing weakness and it served to satiate Grindelwald, but also to inspire fear in the difficulty. And that spell had fulfilled its purpose multiple times over. Only twice had it failed him. Once with Albus’ imbecilic brother and now once again. Mr. Scamander never screamed.

Oh, he writhed, he attempted to defend himself, he failed, but he never screamed. And it was IRKING. He held a higher threshold and competency then Grindelwald could have guessed and to put it bluntly, he was the only reason that magic was not exposed. The only reason that Grindelwald was here, the only reason that he failed.

And Grindelwald wanted him to scream.

There was a knocking from the bars and Grindelwald turned to face them, finding a more recently enlightened auror standing at near attention in front of the cell, a light of respect and accomplishment in her eyes.

“My lord, the preparations have been made.” He nodded and stood gracefully, straightening his garments and striding to the door, the lock undone by the woman shortly after. He breathed in deeply upon stepping out of the cell and then set his gaze on her.

“Do you have him? Has the potion been brewed correctly?” She nodded smoothly and removed a coin pouch from her pocket, retrieving his wand and returning it to him, before stepping into the cell and beginning to set it all up. It was, ironically, inspired by Mr. Scamander’s case, not as extensive, but useful enough.

He ran his fingers over the hard-won knots of the Elder Wand, long-missed, and watched as the auror levitated the prone and unresponsive form of Percival Graves from within the pouch onto the cell bed and forced Polyjuice Potion down his throat. The man moaned in discomfort as the potion pushed its way through him, before falling silent once more, looking, to all the world, like Grindelwald himself asleep. 

She turned to face him, a small smile on her lips, but was not given a chance to speak before he had her stunned, merely watching as she fell, slamming her head against the metal bed frame on the way down. He left her in the pouch, obliviated, with a few hairs missing. If she lived, her life and an alibi was the thanks that she would receive. 

Striding through MACUSA, nodding to those that smiled his way, Grindelwald’s mind whirred through future plans, but the first that he settled on was simple. He needed an example to remind both Europe and America why he should be feared, because fear was just as important as the best stratagems. Someone with ties to both would be optimal and it was then the foundations for the plan set. He needed Newt Scamander to scream and he would ensure that the world would hear it.


	2. Sometimes the Light Isn't The End of the Tunnel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tina thought that maybe they could do this, maybe it would be okay. Or perhaps not.

Evenings were typically quiet in the Goldstein brownstone apartment. Tina would vent over what idiotic thing someone did or occasionally that she still felt like she was being held under inspection, Queenie would share the most recent gossip, Tina would be appropriately scandalized, and life continued. Occasionally they would have late night discussions if Tina had noticed that still sort of sadness creeping into Queenie’s countenance or if Queenie picked up on a particularly glaring bit of insecurity or longing or they might pull out one of the worn board games from their childhood, but overall they kept to a specific kind of pattern. But that was before Newt Scamander and Jacob Kowalski, before the break from the routine, before they both began to fall. 

Now the evenings were even more quiet, with Queenie making food by hand in the melancholiest way, wanting so desperately what it seemed she couldn’t have. And Tina was torn about how to help her sister for the first time in her life.

When they were younger, she would call one of her parents over with the knowledge that they could fix this. When they lost their parents, she couldn’t focus on herself, instead centering her efforts on helping Queenie, who had also grown sick and even more reticent. The pain that came with legilimacy was no longer solely external and it took her time to know what to do about that. Time that Tina gave and support that didn’t even need to be asked for. She used what money her parents left behind to support them through Ilvermorny, found resources for orphans (and how they both loathed that word), and would hide her age over the summer, changing from fifteen to a month or two shy of eighteen, close enough that employers would be willing to overlook the time until legality and give her work so that her thirteen-year-old sister wouldn’t have to know firsthand what life was like on the street.

For years she worked to keep them clothed, well-fed, educated, and sheltered and through all that she was there for Queenie. And with that, her sister flourished, learning to overcome and live with the pain, becoming even more compassionate and ever so desperate to help, to repay. Queenie took work as soon as she could, soothed what insecurity she could find, and made their small apartment home. She learned how to take her own pain and use it to understand another’s. Tina had always been proud of her sister for it. Moreover, they learned to support each other. But now the balance was off. Queenie had lost the man that she had started to love and Tina had gained a hope of something more that she had never known. She remembered that exuberant skip after Newt boarded and she wanted so badly to share it with her sister, but she couldn’t do that, it would be like rubbing vinegar into an open wound. So she didn’t break the silence and Queenie remained silent. It was stifling in a way that she had never known and she didn’t know how to fix it.

Even Mrs. Esposito asked if everything was okay, even if it was in her usual busybody way. It didn’t change and Tina learned long ago that life continued on. But that didn’t mean it didn’t change.

It was another night of silence, a few days after Newt’s departure and two weeks from Jacob’s obliviation that a knock came from the door, Mrs. Esposito’s shouts rising soon after. She and Queenie exchanged a wide-eyed look and then both rushed to the door. Behind it stood a Senior Auror, Joseph Davidson.

“Auror Goldstein, you’re needed at MACUSA, now.” Tina nodded quickly and it was only Queenie’s hand and a pointed glance over that reminded Tina that she was barefoot in her nightclothes and her sister was in an undergarment. Her face burned and she gave Queenie a grateful glance, with a small smile in return. “I’ll be right out.” Auror Davidson, who looked a little red about the ears gave a small cough.

“Of course, I’ll, ah, I’ll just… wait downstairs.” And he descended to the raised tones of Mrs. Esposito as Tina whirled across the apartment as quickly as she could, trying desperately not to run into the drying laundry or the plant that Newt had ‘accidently’ left behind.

“Teenie, what do you think this is about?” Throwing on her cloths and summoning a pair of socks, Tina’s voice was muffled and breathless as she struggled with a shirt.

“I don’t know, maybe a creature we missed? Or perhaps some activity from a Grindelwald supporter? Could you not pick up something from Davidson?” Tina paused in struggling with her suit jacket and shoe simultaneously to frown worriedly at Queenie, redirecting back only when she almost fell over in the process. Queenie shook her head, looking down.

“I’ve, I’ve been trying to do things without it, so his voice was a little lost like it gets when I tune back in after trying to block. Too much at once, you know?” Tina straightened and stepped toward her sister, ignoring her other shoe for the moment.

“Queenie, why would you try to stop using it?” Queenie bit her lip and gave a self-depreciating laugh that didn’t quite cover the tears in her voice.

“I’ve been trying to see the world like he did, Jacob, I mean. Everything was so amazing, so… magical to him, it was the most beautiful mind I’ve ever seen. I’ve been trying to see that too, but it’s hard when I know what’s going through everyone’s minds and that it’s so much more unpleasant.” Tina floundered for a moment, before stepping forward again and hugging her sister as hard as she could.

“I know that you want him back, I wish you could have him too. But Kowalski, Jacob, saw wonder in you, as you were. The only time he ever asked you to stop was so he could compliment you out loud, Queenie. You found wonder in him too, more than I saw, more than most of us saw. That was through looking at the world like you, not like him. He’d want you to, I think.” Queenie nodded into her shoulder, but for a small moment, all Tina felt was the tears of her sister. When another knock came from the door, Queenie stepped back and gave a smile as she wiped her eyes. Tina tried to smile back as she finally reached for her right shoe, but that didn’t quite work as she tripped over the untied laces of her left. Finally, Queenie laughed for the first time in weeks as she looked down at her sister and despite her throbbing backside, Tina smiled as well. Queenie waved her wand and Tina’s shoe slipped on, both laces tying themselves as well, still smiling as Tina stood up sheepishly. 

“Better hurry,” She said, eyes twinkling for a moment, before dimming as she frowned a bit. “He’s not thinking specifically, but something serious has happened. Tell me when you get home.” Tina nodded as she rushed out the door, stopping as Queenie called for her. 

“You might want this.” She smiled, before tossing Tina’s wand through the air to her. Catching it, Tina smiled at her sister and finally felt like perhaps this was something that she could manage, right before she apparated.

Rushing into MACUSA, Tina lost that feeling. Despite the hour, aurors filled the area and the situation display was pointed toward ‘Emergency’. As she pushed through the crowd to the elevator, still following Davidson, she tried to catch conversations, but it was all so loud that each phrase washed over others. 

“Davidson, what’s happened?” He looked grimly down at her, pushing the button for the healing wing.

“Grindelwald escaped.” Tina paled.

“What? How?”

“Our best guess so far is that his followers got in somehow, but we aren’t specifically sure how right now. Junior Auror Sarah McCallister was found dead in an expanded coin pouch, but that’s the only indication of violence and even then, it’s suspect.”

“How did we find out that he was gone then?”

“When the next person took shift, it looked like Grindelwald was sleeping. But an hour later, they found otherwise. This is why McCallister is suspect, she was the only one registered in the area and Grindelwald managed to get ahold of Polyjuice Potion. And that’s where it gets even more complicated.”

“How could it possibly get more complicated?” Tina muttered as she and Davidson walked into the healing wing, stopping short when Seraphina Picquery stepped out from a privacy divider, before resuming as she beckoned them closer imperiously.

“Because of who was on the bed after the Polyjuice wore off.” Tina just gaped, staring down at the emaciated form of Percival Graves lying on the bed.

"Mercy Lewis."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is actually shaping up to be a pretty decent number of chapters according to the plotline I made, I think my goal will be to finish it by New Years, but we'll see. Either way, tell me what you guys think! I loved hearing from you all for the last chapter and hope you keep enjoying it!


	3. Calm Before the Storm

“We- we have to inform MACUSA, everyone. And Newt, he has to know too and-“ Tina’s stuttering voice was quickly cut off by the ever domineering tones of President Picquery.

“We tell no one. Not yet.” Davidson finally spoke again, face troubled as he did so.

“But Ma’am, the people need to know.” Picquery shook her head immediately.

“No, not immediately. If we wait a few days, we can trace him more effectively and we can prepare for the panic and the ramifications of this. The Congress has to know of course and I will speak to them in the morning, but for the moment, only the Senior Aurors know. And only the healers necessary and the people in this room know about who was left behind.” Davidson reluctantly gave a grim nod and, after a moment, Tina gave a hesitant nod.

“What about Newt?” Picquery’s eyes gleamed.

“Mr. Scamander has little to fear from Grindelwald and unless we find out that he does, he will learn with the rest of the world. Understood?”

“Yes, President Picquery.”

. . . . .

It had been a long day and it wasn’t quite over, a thought which gave Tina cause for a wry, but exhausted huff.

They had waited as the healers thoroughly examined Mr. Graves, the reports came back with extensive use of dark magics meant to cause pain, malnutrition, and dehydration. The healer said that it could have been far more severe and Tina didn’t really want to know how. The search had begun for Grindelwald, ward builders were called in to begin constructing an extensive screening ward, and investigation began on the deceased Junior Auror, but nothing was conclusive, on any level. No one knew where Grindelwald had gone, no one knew what Sarah McCallister had done, and none of the ward builders had ever done a ward this specific or this large scale before. It was frustrating to say the least.  
They couldn’t even conclusively say that Grindelwald had left the country, which meant every available auror was out on the streets, watching closely for any odd occurrence. Tina had gone into MACUSA a little after 10 and was just now leaving at 6 the next day. At the very least, Christmas wouldn’t be a problem. 

But now was the last hurdle of the day. Queenie.

The door sprang open and her sister stood before her in her slip, a gasping look of offense on her face.

“Excuse you for that thought!”

“Which one?” The sarcastic phrase was out before she could stop it and despite the slight smack to the arm, she considered it well worth the slight smile on Queenie’s face.

“Now, tell me everything.” Queenie sat attentively and didn’t even bother waiting for Tina to speak, just read the chain of events as they came to mind. Tina allowed it, too tired to actually care. “Oh you poor dear, that does sound exhausting. He’s out! How? Oh, they don’t know yet? Why wouldn’t they, oh yes that makes sense, but still… Absolutely not. Alright and what about the rest? Not a single lead, gosh, he’s good. And I knew Sarah felt a little bit off. Alright, I think that’s everything. Teenie, stay right there, let me make you cocoa.” She fluttered off for a moment, still making it by hand, and gave Tina a brief reprieve.

Cocoa had been a long established and well-loved tradition in the Goldstein family for quite some time. Tina remembered her mother telling her that this was what her own father would do if she had a long day or a bad dream and it carried on. Tina and Queenie had both grown up in the knowledge that even if the problem was still there, chocolate could make it better, even for just a few moments. After their parent’s death, both of them refused to touch it for a year, but one summer day, Tina came home, drained, desperate, and just missing her parents and wanting them back. Queenie had taken one look and went to the cabinet, hesitating for a moment, before pulling out the cocoa tin. When she brought them to Tina, she took one look at the still rare smile and the steaming mug (that had been her father’s favorite, her mother’s ensconced in her sister’s other hand) and burst into tears. Queenie just cast a warming charm on the drinks and pulled her sister close. After that, they learned to have chocolate as a comfort once more and it became a ritual for them, something to soothe the soul after a hard go and it didn’t fail now.

Taking a leisurely sip of the drink Queenie gave her, Tina smiled up at her sister before pulling her down and close. For a few moments they just leaned against each other in front of the fireplace, before Queenie broke the silence.

“You have to tell him, you know that.”

“Queenie, I want to, but the President-“

“The President is thinking about everyone, but she isn’t thinking about the individuals. Teenie, he’s in danger, you know he’s in danger.”

“But I can’t go against orders.”

“Why not?”

“Because, because they’re orders?”

“Tina Goldstein, not three weeks ago, you traipsed about New York to rescue a suitcase filled with illegal magical creatures, defended the person that had the magical creatures, and broke out of MACUSA, not to mention you defending Credence before that!”

“But- “

“No, absolutely not! Teenie, damn the rules! Tell the man you care for that he’s in danger and do it tonight!”

“…Fine. I hate you sometimes.”

“No you don’t!” Queenie sing songed as she twirled over the window, waving her wand to summon one of the rental owls. “And I would know. So, write your love letter and we’ll get it sent off right away.”

“It’s not- He’s not- Mercy Lewis. Fine. Fine! I’m writing the letter.” And Tina went to write it, doing her best to hide her blush behind her bob, but knowing that it would do nothing against her sister. Blasted legilimancers.

“I heard that!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is a very light chapter, I'm still just setting the stage for everything and I've also discovered that I freaking love the Goldstein Sisters, so much more than I realized. But, still, we'll be seeing Newt either the next chapter or the one directly following, that I can promise you, at which point he will begin to feature more heavily, promise. So, as ever, thank you for reading and for commenting and please continue to do so. I hope you enjoyed it and have a brilliant day!


	4. A Way Lost and A Way Found

There was a well-worn section of carpet in the Goldstein apartment, Queenie’s favorite spot to sit when her sister was out, point of fact, that had been dedicated thoroughly to the musings and worries of one Tina Goldstein and the past three days had not been kind to it. Queenie watched in vague amusement and her own worry as Tina became more and more frantic, as her hair grew increasingly frizzy, as if it was trying to give form to the internal stress, and her movements grew more halting, all grace lost to the ever-present fear.

It had been three days and their owl had not yet found Newt Scamander, the note that appeared when the owl made its delivery had not popped up yet, and it was not sitting well in the Goldstein residence.

“He has to be in his suitcase. But what if he’s not in his suitcase? The man has to eat at some point, doesn’t he? Oh, it’s Newt, he’d forget in a heartbeat. But he doesn’t have the resources to live in his case, so what if it’s not that, what if he’s been taken and we were too late? What if he’s with Grindelwald right now? It’s Grindelwald, he could be capable of that, easily. I mean, look what he did to Graves and it’s Graves! And you remember how carefully Newt moved after fighting with him, he wouldn’t tell us, but something happened, what if it’s still affecting him? What if-“ Tina’s voice broke off along with her path when her sister stepped in front of her and clasped her shoulders tightly.

“You know he’s probably in his case, it’s Newt. If he didn’t have to live to take care of his creatures, he’d forget, you know that. And apparition like that over sea is too dangerous for anyone and portkeys don’t work, so he’s safe on the ship. Teenie, you have to stop. It’s a long trip to get back and you saw him leave. The owl will get to him when they hit land and he has to get out of his case. Besides, we don’t even know for certain that Grindelwald’s going to go after him. He’ll be alright. Now you breathe. No, stop worrying again, just sit down. I’ll make you some cocoa.” Except as Queenie began to bustle back to the kitchen, Tina grabbed her sleeve.

“But what if it really is too late, Queenie?” It had been days and Tina hadn’t asked that yet. Queenie heard it echoing in her mind, behind the worry and the annoyance and fear, but it was the first time it had been said. So, she sat down and framed Tina’s face with her hands, waiting until Tina actually looked at her.

“Then we’ll find him. He’s got people that’ll be on his side. But more than that,” she shook her hands for emphasis, “He’s got you. And nothing stops my sister. Not even my sister and certainly not Grindelwald. Newt’ll be fine, Tinnie. We won’t lose him.” Tina nodded after a moment and neither of them mentioned the silent words hanging in the air.

Too. They wouldn’t lose him too.

That night they stayed on the couch and when the fire burned low, neither of them moved to stoke it, just summoned blankets and pillows. And the next morning, Tina smiled down at her sister and shimmied from beneath her still sleeping face. Queenie tended to present a relaxed and friendly visage to the world, but only in sleep and special moments with special people did Tina see her sister’s face truly relaxed. And it was for that reason that she let her sleep and prepared a simple breakfast, waiting until the last moment before waking Queenie.

“Queenie. Queenie, come on.” Queenie frowned and burrowed further under the blankets, a stray hand nearly smacking Tina across the face. Graceful she was not in the mornings. “Queenie.” She sighed. Time to actually try. “Queenie, I heard Abernathy wanted to ask you out.” A gasp and a horrified set of eyes came from beneath a stray pillow before blonde eyebrow’s furrowed and Queenie threw the pillow at her sister.

“You liar!” But she got up anyway, grumbling the whole while. “Why would you even taunt me with that, you know how much I can’t stand his mind.” That is, until she saw the time. 

“Teenie, I need more time than this!” 

For the next several minutes, Tina sat calmly as her sister bustled about the room, watching in amusement and narrowly avoiding a slip that had been lying across a nearby chair. Finally, Queenie came in, beautiful as ever, and sat down, spreading salt on the eggs Tina put on the plate for her.

“Do you think that they’ll catch him? Grindelwald.” Tina stared into her coffee like it held all the answers to the universe, but either she couldn’t understand what the cream was telling her or she picked the wrong cup, because her answer was merely,

“I don’t know.” Shaking her head like she was brushing something off, she finally looked up. “I hope so, but I don’t know. I just have to believe that we will, if not soon, then eventually. Come on, we should be leaving.” Queenie flicked her wand nonchalantly to clean the dishes as they stood and walked to the door, crept past Mrs. Esposito’s door, and to the apparition point.

“Hey, Teenie? It’ll be okay, believe me. And Teen? Good job on not burning the eggs too badly, maybe try harder on the toast next time though.” And giggling, she disapparated, leaving Tina to gripe to herself for a moment before she followed, knowing her sister would be out of sight by the time she arrived as well.

Arriving in the atrium of MACUSA, Tina avoided looking at the clock, just headed for the lifts with her mind back to worrying without the distraction of her sister. Such was her focus that she didn’t notice Davidson until he was a few paces away, despite him having called out to her a few times.

“Davidson, what is it?” Her alarmed tone drew several eyes, but Davidson waved them all away as he pulled her toward Red’s lift.

“Boss, it’s the boss, he’s awake! Healing wing, Red, now!”

“Well, is he alright?” Davidson gave her a look. “I mean is he going to be! And why are we going there, you could have just told me when I got to the Investigative Department.”

“They’re pretty optimistic, but it sounds like he’ll be off his feet for a while. And it’s because he asked for you.”

“Asked for me? Why in the world would he do that?” Davidson grimaced, but continued his tale as they neared the floor.

“President was telling him what happened when he was… gone, finished and he went quiet for a bit. Then he looked Picquery straight in the eye and started talking using that real deliberate tone he gets when the rookie aurors botch up something really bad and just said ‘You’re telling me, that out of an entire department of supposedly highly skilled aurors and around people that I thought were friends or at least fairly amicable acquaintances, not a single person noticed that I was not acting correctly?’ Picquery nods and he just keeps going with, ‘And that not a single person thought to question an untried execution?’ and at this point he doesn’t even stop and just keeps going.” Though Davidson did stop to open the doors to the lift, hardly even looking as they continued down the hallway. “And that it took a brit who didn’t even know me to figure out that the Department Head was the darkest wizard of our era?’ And he’s yelling real proper now, right and the President tries to calm him down and says something about Grindelwald being clever or something and Graves just looks right at her and say, ‘Clearly.’ Scariest thing I’ve seen in my life.”

“I’d like to think that Grindelwald himself would trump your department head, Davidson.” Abruptly, both of them spin to find Serephina Picquery herself glaring imperiously from outside the healers wing.

“Of course, ma’am.”

“But, by all means, finish your narrative.” Davidson stayed silent. “No? Well then, Miss Goldstein, Mr. Graves would like to see you.” Davidson looked at her pathetically as she walked away, but stayed silent.

“All respect ma’am, but why does he want to see me?”

“I believe he wants to apologize, but I could be mistaken. Ask him yourself, Goldstein.” Turning, she stalked off. “Tell Graves that we’ll be back later. Davidson!”

As they returned to the lift, Tina turned to face the door and found that a piece of wood had never been so intimidating in her life. Bracing herself and taking a big breath in, she straightened and pushed past the door.

“Mr. Graves, sir?”

“Hello, Miss Goldstein.” His voice was raspy and he still looked horrible, but he was awake and just as terrifying as she remembered. Cautiously, she edged closer.

“I heard you’re going to be okay, sir, I’m glad.” He hummed his acknowledgement, but said nothing more, just staring at her inquisitively as she began to fidget. Whatever he was looking for, he seemed to find it, because he finally continued.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I asked for you.” He spoke over her hurried nods. “I asked for you, because for months, no one even realized something was wrong and while you may not have been someone that did notice anything wrong, I wouldn’t expect you to, nor would I expect you to go against MACUSA for what you knew was right, nor would I expect you to fight Grindelwald. Yet, it seems you have surpassed those expectations. And for that, you were sentenced to death under my authority and my face, even if it wasn’t me. And I am sincerely sorry for that, Miss Goldstein.” Quickly, she shook her head.

“No sir, that wasn’t your fault, not at all and I don’t blame you for it.” He cut across whatever she might have said next, a quirk on his lips, but no other expression on his face.

“All the same, I ask that you accept my apologies.” Taking a deep breath, she straightened. 

“No sir, I will not accept your apologies for what was not your fault. This is Grindelwald’s doing and he is the only one that I consider responsible.” Tina hesitated for a moment before continuing. “And you should only consider him responsible as well, sir.” Graves eyebrows rose fractionally as she spoke and for a moment, he only looked considering, then he nodded.

“I will not promise that I can, but I will try, Miss Goldstein. Thank you. Now, what can you tell me about Newt Scamander?” And his eyebrows rose even more at the sudden blush that overtook her face.

~

Some time later, Tina finished explaining everything to Graves satisfaction and as he grew more worn out, Tina stood and said her goodbyes. Before she left, she paused at the door.

“Sir? I think that someone would have seen soon.”

“I had to be unmasked by a stranger and literally planted in order for anyone to know, Goldstein. No matter who’s fault or how clever, it’s going to be hard to forget that.”

“Of course, sir. I’m sorry.”

“Not on you, Goldstein.”

~

And as Tina made her way down to the Investigative Department, somewhere on the Atlantic, a tangle of red hair and a bright blue coat sleeve came above the lid of a worn looking suitcase and a very grumpy, wet, and tired owl straightened it’s course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so. I am very sorry for the break between chapters, life has definitely been hectic, but I'll avoid having it happen again. Also, this chapter was pretty hard to write for some reason, so I apologize if it's not the same quality as previous chapters, I know the next one will definitely be smoother. Speaking of next one, the next chapter is Newt and I'm excited! Thank you to everyone that reviewed, they're amazing to get and I answer every one, usually right before posting the next chapter, so drop by if you have a question or just want to talk to me about how adorable Newt is or how much of a literal queen Queenie is. Thanks for reading and have a good day!


	5. Chapter Four: The Harried Owl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt being an overthinking introvert trying to figure out how people work, Tina's letter, and a Greecian spell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The translation of the spell is at the bottom, it is through Google Translate and I can guarantee that it is not the best already, you'll see why with the translation. I apologize for how long it's been, but the next chapter is written and the chapter after is a few paragraphs from, so this will not happen again, though I am trying to decide how long it should be between chapters, so I'll be getting back to you guys on that. Thank you for all the reviews and support, you guys are amazing and I hope you enjoy!

A drop of sweat rolled down his face, but Newt hardly noticed, busy sketching out other observations and illustrations. The faux Arizona sun beat down on him and Newt had removed even his vest long ago, but he made no move to leave the abandoned area. Since Frank had been freed, no matter how delighted he was to see his friend happy, he had felt a deep pit of loneliness and yearning. It wasn’t such that it detracted from the rest of his doings, but any moment of peace was only such for so long, before he began to think back on New York. And as much as he would have liked to pretend otherwise, Newt only conveniently left out truths when interacting with governing bodies, not to himself. It wasn’t just Frank that he missed.

Friend was not a word that Newt used casually or often, but he now had three reasons to do so and while it was not- unpleasant, Newt was at a loss as to how to behave. While he was fairly certain, giving someone several pounds of silver was not quite right, it didn’t matter to Newt, but it was something Jacob needed and Newt had been looking for some way to give the man (who now didn’t even know him, and didn’t that sting some part of him that he had thought safe, protected since Lena) his thanks. It was yet another farewell that Newt was reluctant to see, but it had been Jacob’s choice and Newt would never supersede such. 

Farewells were simple compared to friendships.

Queenie and Tina had become two people that he trusted, not merely with his life, but with his creatures. They had soothed his hurts, had protected his beasts, and listened and cared and learned from what he said and the creatures he protected. Newt had met no such individual like that since Leta and she had turned her back the moment he needed her. To have people that Newt not only tolerated, but enjoyed, people he wanted to spend time with, was amazing.

Amazing and distracting.

Every time he caught his Niffler by the scruff just before it escaped the case, Newt would think about how Queenie would laugh. Every time he fed the Mooncalves, he thought about Jacob’s gentle coaxing and his awed laugh. Every time he pulled out a pen and paper, he thought about Tina’s soft smile as she agreed to see him again and her beam as she spoke the title that Newt hadn’t had before that moment. Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them. It was written in a neat scrawl across the manuscript and Newt knew that he would not be swayed on the matter. 

But for every one of those, Newt would remember they were in New York, that Jacob didn’t remember, that he had no idea how to even begin writing a letter to a friend. The proof littered his desk, countless sheets titled, “Dear Tina and Queenie,”, “Dear Misses Goldstein,”, “Miss Tina and Miss Queenie,”, and “Miss Tina,” with a separate “Miss Queenie”. Each a resounding failure and himself no more certain if he was to do a single letter or separate. When he began to reserve the greeting for after the letter was finished, it hadn’t proceeded much better. 

“I hope that you are well and that your aurorship is proceeding well as well.”

“It is my sincerest hope that you are both doing well and that no other lions have escaped the Zoo in your rather odd park.”

“I wish that I was permitted more time to discover more of you, but I wished to let you know that I have thought often on our conversation about Takers. I do know that you and your sister are some of the best Givers that I have ever met and that Jacob-“.

In one letter that Newt knew he would never send, he wrote, 

“I miss you and it is not a feeling familiar to me, nor is the thought that I do not believe I am alone in the sentiment. You have made and filled places that I had not even know were lacking and my life is the better for it, but I still find myself longing for peace in the isolation that I have returned to. I desire to return to you, to see your city and savor it, side by side with you, but I do not know if I am alone in this or not. I feel that I am not, but I have as little an idea to proceed if that is true as if it is not. I wish that I were returned and yet I want to flee as far as I can.

Your confused,

NS”

“Bugger it all.” Newt shook his head like that would be effective against intrusive thoughts and realized that he had been staring blankly at the parchment for quite some time and his quill had begun to drip ink in small splatters that ruined the line of the Nundu’s back. Giving it up as a bad job, Newt stood and wobbled as pain flared, a remnant from the duel against Grindelwald. Pickett stirred in his coat pocket but remained slumbering. The Bowtruckle had taken to napping during his bouts of distraction and griped upon awakening before his choosing. Newt kept telling Pickett that he would be able to sleep undisturbed in his tree, but Pickett staunchly refused to be parted since Narlack and Grindelwald and Newt never quite had the heart to refuse him. Favoritism indeed. 

Reaching his desk in the hut, Newt found a waiting pile of fruits and other foods and grudgingly smiled, even as he called out, “Dougal, what have I told you about leaving the case?” A grumble answered Newt. “No, I can scavenge for myself.” A finger gently nudged his stomach pointedly at a gurgle. “That is quite beside the point, thank you!” A piece of bread and a lollipop hit his head before the hut door swung open and shut again as Dougal unceremoniously left. Not indignantly, as the air practically radiated smugness as his stomach grumbled again. Mumbling mutinously, Newt began to eat, descending much faster on the food as his stomach reminded him of how long it had been. 

Upon leaving New York, Newt promptly descended into his case and began to restore his case to what it should be. Fortunately, the damage from MACUSA Aurors could have been so much worse, but neither he nor his creatures rested well in the meantime. During the whole of cleanup, Newt endured each of his creatures pampering him in some way, especially if he gave even the slightest indication of how much he still hurt, like little lightning bolts still struck his limbs at odd moments. Each time it happened, Newt’s muscles spasmed, tightening to such levels that it was an effort not to make any sound whatsoever and his jaw ached afterward from his clenching. Whatever spell that was, it lasted longer than any spell he had encountered before. Pain relieving potions only helped so much as each incident rendered him unable to move and he could hardly be drinking them consistently. Hence, the spoiling. And despite his griping, Newt appreciated each little thing his creatures did for him, growing to love them a little more every day, as always.

Pickett scolded and worried and coached from his pocket, the Mooncalves snuggled close, the Niffler actually gave him a coin, and Dougal brought food that Newt kept forgetting to get from outside the case. Perhaps he had a point today, however. After so long in silence or lost in thought, Newt thought the perpetual noise that surrounded gatherings might do him good, regardless of the food that he definitely was not going for. It was a side reason, of course. But first.

His shirt was still plastered to him due to the heat of Frank’s enclosure and that would simply not do. Switching into another white collared shirt, Newt paused and looked at the markings. Lichtenberg markings, he thought the Muggles called them. They were only one set to many others, but Newt paused each time he glimpsed them. They were not visually unpleasant, Newt was actually somewhat fascinated by the notion, but few wizards frightened Newt because of the threat they were to him. During the war, Newt worked with dragons and no matter the many shiny areas of skin left from flame, they never frightened him because of who they were. Grindelwald however. Grindelwald was arrogant and powerful and deplorable and exactly the sort that lead Newt to avoid society. Grindelwald did frighten him. And Newt thought that Grindelwald noticed him substantially more than he would have preferred. 

It was something in those glimmering eyes that for all their color, reminded Newt of nothing so much as a deep pit of darkness. And that pit was focused on him, more than the aurors, more than Picquery, more than anyone in that tunnel. Every time Newt saw these scars in the weeks since he remembered those eyes. 

“Do you think we die, just a little?” Newt didn’t understand. His interpretation was dying a little under pretense, but it felt like it implied something else, something foreboding. War was coming again, but Newt had this feeling in him that it would come to him sooner than others, in some way, and it was a feeling that intensified each time. It had grown to such that one night, after his creatures had slipped off into sleep, Newt slipped away and went to the hut with its side room of books, several in a variety of languages. Newt knew what he was looking for, but had long forgotten the incantation and the book that it resided in. He searched throughout the night and finally found it, a contingency measure that reassured him greatly, even though it still felt vaguely ridiculous in the light of morning. But the spell was memorized and the book was close.

He just hoped desperately as he buttoned his shirt and vest that it would never be needed.

Retrieving a notebook and the necessary writing tools, Newt set up the ladder, stumbling a smidge upon stepping out as he adjusted to the rocking motion once more. He paid more on overseas journeys due to his requirement of a single berth and access to the air from his room, yet he had never had cause to regret such. Coming out of his case was disorienting enough without considering that he was unable to see what time of day it was. Moving closer to the window, Newt spied a bird in the distance and had a brief moment of wondering how much time he had missed that they were near enough to land for birds when he saw the wingspan and realized that it was a barn owl heading straight for him.

A very grumpy barn owl.

Ducking as the owl flew straight at him, Newt turned to see the owl land on the desk and came closer, crooning apologies for making the poor bird fly about as he skulked in his case, but the poor bird had none of it until Newt had retrieved food from the buffet for him and for the owl, at which point she grudgingly surrendered the letter and tucked her head under her wing. Seems he would have company for a bit longer. 

Wincing as he cut his finger on the edge of the envelope, Newt’s eyes widened as he saw Tina’s name at the bottom of the letter and he pulled it open quickly, eyes flying through the short letter, his breath stuttering midway.

“Dear Newt,

I hadn’t intended to write you quite so soon, well, I had, but not until you arrived back in London, at least, but we have a situation at MACUSA. The President is keeping it quiet for a bit longer, trying to give our department the best conditions to search for him, but I think she should just tell everyone, less fallout and more eyes, but given the fact that since Graves woke up, she’s been an absolutely foul mood, nobody has dared argue that much. I’m fairly certain that Graves is working to get out of the healing ward just to change that, but that could just be a rumor, so who knows. Their being friends is a rumor too, for all I know they could hate each other. Wait, Queenie says they have a fond hatred for each other, or at least they used to. Didn’t look that fond last time I saw.

Regardless, Newt you need to be careful. Picquery doesn’t want to tell you without a direct threat, but there was something off about how he interacted with you and I don’t trust it.

It occurs to me that context is important. Newt, a few days after you left New York, a Junior Auror went into Grindelwald’s cell with an expanded coin pouch containing the real Percival Graves, and Polyjuice Potion. She dosed Graves into Grindelwald’s face and gave Grindelwald Polyjuice as well. He attacked her and used her hair to escape MACUSA, which we think is why she wasn’t killed in an immediate manner. He put her body in the coin pouch, which we think was meant for him initially, and the ruse was not discovered until Grave’s Polyjuice wore off. Newt, Grindelwald has escaped and I don’t know why, but I think you’re in danger. You needed to know. 

Newt, promise me that you’ll be careful and write back as soon as you can.

Sincerely,

Tina Goldstein”

Grindelwald escaped. Intellectually, Newt knew that that was a highly probable possibility, but he had expected it to take longer, at the very least. And he had known that Grindelwald focused on him more than perhaps he was comfortable with, but not that he wasn’t the only one worried about that fixed expression. It could still be just his worry, he was a mere magizoologist, but knowing that Tina and probably Queenie as well were just as unnerved made it more valid, in his mind at the very least.

Taking a deep breath, Newt pulled out his wand and summoned the book, looking through it one more time to make certain that he had the spell correct before pulling a single hair from a small bag and raising his wand.

“Ο Λόρδος Hermes ακούει τη μαγεία και την έκκλησή μου. Ας πάει αυτός ο θησαυρός στον οποίο εμπιστεύομαι στην κλήση μου.” The Greek flowed easily, courtesy of a year there, studying the creatures and the land’s somewhat unique integration of magical creatures. To finish the ritual, he lowered his wand and tapped the hair, watching as it seemed to be coated in luminescent gold before snaking from his hand to wind neatly around the handle of his case, stopping when it resembled a neat embroidery. 

Letting out a breath, Newt made sure that he gave the owl more to eat and asked that it stay for a while longer, to rest and so that he could send his reply. She glared, but nodded in acceptance, tucking her head back under the wing after having woken up during the spell.

Tracing a finger over the handle, Newt opened the case and went to his desk, pulling out his quill and parchment from a side drawer. 

“Dear Tina,

I am glad to hear from you, even if the circumstances are less than ideal. Thank you for your warning, I appreciate it and I give you my word that I will be cautious.

In that vein of thought, I have a favor to ask. In New York when my case was threatened, something I have long forgiven you for and I hope you have as well, it filled me with a sense of despair and fear that I have rarely encountered before. These creatures are under my protection, but in times of danger, one mere mortal man is sometimes not enough. Because of that, I have entrusted my case to you should anything happen to me. I hope that such measures are not necessary, but I refuse to fail these creatures and even if your only action is to entrust them to other magizoologists, I trust your judgement more than others I have met. 

Please give my well wishes to Mr. Graves and be careful as well, Tina, these are proving to be darker times than either of us might like.

My best wishes to you and your sister as well,

Newt Scamander.”

As he sealed the envelope and returned the parchment and ink to the drawer, Newt’s eye was caught on a flash of movement in the corner. Leta Lestrange smirked at him from her frame and Newt simply stared for a moment. Even during their friendship, Newt never would have entrusted this to her and it hurt something in him to admit that. Finally, he reached out and pulled the picture from the desk, looking one more time, before gently placing the picture facedown in an unused drawer.

Times would be dark enough, in the muggle and magical worlds both. Times like this were when you held your friends close and dismissed what shadows you could. And this one had clung for long enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation: "Lord Hermes listen to my magic and my appeal. Let this treasure go to whom I trust on my call." When I did the switch languages, the Greek translated to Mr. Hermes, so it's probably mangled, that's all I'm saying. If you happen to write Greek, get back to me and I'll totally change it.
> 
> Well, let me know what you think, there's some Scamander angst in the next one, Goldstein love, some more Original Percival Graves, and some Very Bad Things happen. The show's about to get going, Ladies and Gentleman, I hope you're ready.
> 
> Well, have a great day and I hope to hear from you soon!

**Author's Note:**

> So, I think we can establish that I hurt the ones I love. This is a story I am definitely going to have fun with and I'm so excited to see some of the things I've planned play out. Please, leave a comment and tell me what you think, I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I do.


End file.
